


captain's business

by crustaceans



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Rimming, Training Camp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-14 22:05:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2204721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crustaceans/pseuds/crustaceans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kuroo is still towel drying his hair when he notices the sound of running water from across the locker room abruptly stop. He can hear footsteps, softened by slippers no doubt, on the wet tile; and there’s Bokuto, rounding the corner as he fastens a towel around his waist, his hair still dripping on his shoulders.</p>
<p>Honestly, this is just gratuitous locker room sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	captain's business

**Author's Note:**

> written for tumblr user kiseshintarou's birthday! i didn't realize this wasn't up on ao3 until just now so here we go.
> 
> bokuroo is real, y'all

Kuroo is still towel drying his hair when he notices the sound of running water from across the locker room abruptly stop. He can hear footsteps, softened by slippers no doubt, on the wet tile; and there’s Bokuto, rounding the corner as he fastens a towel around his waist, his hair still dripping on his shoulders.

“Is everybody gone?” Bokuto asks, jerking his head toward the doorway.

Kuroo nods. The captain’s meeting had run long with the addition of the Karasuno’s Sawamura. The usual rotation of matches between their schools had to be shifted to accommodate the fifth team. In Kuroo’s opinion, the change is refreshing. Bokuto and Kuroo had volunteered to take the last showers and lock up the gym, giving them a chance to be alone. They had elected to shower separately, bruises from a disastrous attempt at shower sex a few weeks prior still fading on Kuroo’s lower back.

“Excellent.”

Bokuto crosses the room to lock the door. Their teammates are either too exhausted to notice their absence or know better than to question it. It’s a running joke every year to see who will walk in on Bokuto and Kuroo; so far, Akaashi holds the record.

“Karasuno was weaker than I expected from your stories,” Bokuto begins conversationally, as if they aren’t about to hook up. “I wanted to see that quick strike you-“

“Bokuto.” Kuroo raises a brow. They don’t have unlimited time, and he’s feeling pretty horny.

Bokuto grins at him. With his hair down he almost looks like a different person, save for the familiar twinkle of his round eyes. Kuroo can see tan lines from the hot August sun beginning to form on Bokuto’s biceps and below his knees where his sliders end and feels grateful for his own naturally tanned skin.

“All yours,” Bokuto declares, unwrapping the towel at his waist and letting it pool around his ankles. He’s already half hard. Kuroo appreciates his single-mindedness and scoots back on the bench, leaving room for Bokuto to straddle it in front of him.

Bokuto grabs Kuroo by the hips and pulls him closer as they kiss, hurried and sloppy. His hands are rough and calloused against Kuroo’s skin; though Kuroo supposes his own can’t be much better. Bokuto bites down on his bottom lip and Kuroo can taste blood as Bokuto sucks it between his teeth. Bokuto has two settings – on and off. He never does anything in half measures and is one of the more fun people Kuroo has had the pleasure of hooking up with in his life. He tilts his head back as Bokuto bites and sucks along his jawline. Kuroo already has a few bruises from receive-training (or, as Yaku calls it, dodging) with Lev, and frankly doesn’t care if he has a hickey or two tomorrow. It’s nothing new for him.

“Mmm,” Kuroo moans and presses forward until he’s flush against Bokuto’s chest.

Kuroo wraps his hand around Bokuto’s cock, tugging teasingly at his foreskin as he strokes, pulling the skin down further over the head each time only to tug it back up. He can feel the slickness of pre-cum as he runs his thumb over the slit. Bokuto shudders and bites down on his shoulder, hard.

“Ahh, god, Kuroo, just like that.” Bokuto’s voice is muffled against Kuroo’s shoulder, breath hot against his skin. His hips buck in time with Kuroo’s strokes. Bokuto slides one hand up the length of Kuroo’s thigh and under the towel which is still, for whatever reason, fastened around his waist. Bokuto grips him, mirroring Kuroo’s actions as he tugs at Kuroo’s cock. They rut against one another for a few minutes, moans echoing across the locker room.

Kuroo can feel his orgasm building as Bokuto increases the pace, biting down on his collarbone and sucking a bruise into the skin where it stretches over the bone. “I’m close,” he gasps out, immediately regretting his words when Bokuto suddenly stops and lets go of him.

“What the fuck?”

“We’re not done yet,” Bokuto states like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Kuroo groans. He would be just fine with some mutual jerking off tonight, it’s not like they don’t have five more nights here at Shinzen to fuck, but obviously Bokuto has a different idea.

“Get on the floor,” he whispers as he swipes his tongue across the shell of Kuroo’s ear.

Kuroo realizes where this is going and scoots back.

“Oh no you don’t. I let you fuck me last time with the  _explicit_  promise that I would get to this time.”

Bokuto shrugs. “It’s almost my birthday.”

“…your birthday is in September.”

“Exactly.”

“Fuck, Bokuto, that’s not how this works.” Kuroo is mildly pissed. It’s not like he isn’t into bottoming. On the contrary, he really enjoys it. But promises have to be kept.

He turns to swing a leg over the bench and stand, but Bokuto quickly pins Kuroo against the bench. Kuroo may be taller but Bokuto is heavier and stronger, which he uses to his full advantage. Kuroo pushes back against his chest but Bokuto holds his own, his weight centered in the elbow jammed between Kuroo’s shoulder blades. Kuroo can’t move, and has to admit that he enjoys the roughness.

“You were saying?” Bokuto says coolly.

Kuroo laughs, despite himself. “Hurry up and fuck me with that fat cock of yours.”

“Hmm?” Kuroo doesn’t know if he wants to punch him or fuck him. Probably both.

“Fuck. Me. With. Your. Fat. Cock.” Kuroo deliberately draws out every syllable, punctuating his request by grinding back against Bokuto’s dick. He can practically feel Bokuto’s smile. They’re both getting off on this little game.

“Get on the floor,” Bokuto finally repeats, lifting off of Kuroo entirely. He digs through his gym bag as Kuroo spreads a towel out on the floor. Like hell is he going to ruin his knees for the week on the cold tile. He hears the crinkle of a condom wrapper being ripped open.

Kuroo can feel when Bokuto kneels behind him. He grabs Kuroo’s hips and guides them upwards, pressing a biting kiss to the base of Kuroo’s back, just under his bruises. Kuroo grips his cock as Bokuto spreads his ass, and sighs when he feels Bokuto’s tongue, hot and wet against his hole. Kuroo strokes himself lazily and appreciates the practiced skill with which Bokuto laps at him, slowly but deliberately, his tongue probing inside Kuroo. Kuroo keens when a finger pushes inside him, slick with the lube from Bokuto’s gym bag. Kuroo thinks about the contents of his own bag and laughs. Bokuto stills.

“No,” Kuroo says, looking over his shoulder. “Not you. Just thinking about something. Keep going.”

Bokuto continues to work him open, this time with noticeably less fervor. Kuroo could kick himself. Bokuto, while over eager, is also easily discouraged. He’s a fragile guy, and right now Kuroo wants Bokuto to fuck him with everything he’s got.

“Koutarou,” Kuroo begins, pushing his ass back against Bokuto’s face. “Please.” 

Bokuto noticeably perks up, adding a second finger to scissor Kuroo open. Kuroo bites back a moan as Bokuto brushes against his prostate. The walls in this building are thin as fuck and the noise echoes against the tile. Generally they’d opt for an empty room, but Karasuno is taking up what little space they usually had to work with. Honestly, it’s kind of hot thinking about how close the others are as Bokuto eats him out.

“That’s enough,” Kuroo says a little more desperately than he’d like to admit. “Fuck me.”

“Ohoho,” Bokuto chuckles, confidence returned in full. Kuroo feels the head of his cock rubbing against him as Bokuto lines himself up. “I knew you liked getting fucked.”

Kuroo pushes back as Bokuto sinks into him to the hilt. He isn’t wrong. On occasion, Kuroo  _does_  enjoy getting fucked; loves the feeling of being stretched and used. Bokuto reaches forward, grabbing the wrist Kuroo’s using to support himself and pulls it behind his back. Kuroo falters, torso pushed into the threadbare towel. Bokuto grabs his other hand, which is currently wrapped around his cock, and pulls that back as well. The pain is dull, which Kuroo attributes to his daily shoulder stretches. It actually feels good to let Bokuto take complete control of the pace as he fucks him with long, deep thrusts.

Kuroo bites his lip when he hears footsteps outside the locker room door. Bokuto either doesn’t hear or doesn’t care, continuing to pound into him. He’s glad Bokuto locked the door, although this isn’t the worst position he could be caught in. Whoever is walking by doesn’t try the door and the footsteps fade down the hall.

“Kind of wanted someone to walk in and see you like this,” Bokuto says breathlessly.

“Just shut up and fuck me,” Kuroo pants. The towel rubs against his face, rough from over washing. He glances at the full-length mirror across the room. It’s hot, seeing himself on the floor with Bokuto buried inside him.

Bokuto complies, snapping his hips and increasing the pace. He hits Kuroo’s prostate with each thrust. Kuroo can tell by the recklessness of his thrusts that he’s as close as Kuroo is. Bokuto consolidates both of Kuroo’s wrists into one hand, squeezing tightly as he reaches around to stroke Kuroo’s cock in time with his thrusts.

It isn’t long before Kuroo is gasping, orgasm ripping through him. It feels incredible, even more so because he was denied before. Bokuto rides out his own orgasm, nearly pulling Kuroo’s arms out of their sockets as he comes. He slumps against Kuroo’s back for a moment to catch his breath before he pulls out.

Kuroo wipes his stomach off with the towel, already spattered with his own cum. Kuroo thinks about how he probably isn’t the first person to use this towel for the same purpose and feels a little grossed out as he drops it into the basket with the others.

Bokuto is already pulling on his sliders when Kuroo turns around to get dressed.

“How the hell does your hair already look like that?”

Kuroo looks over his shoulder at the mirror. His hair looks like it normally does.

“What do you mean?” he asks, pulling a t-shirt over his head.

“I thought you had to put product in it,” Bokuto says wistfully, pushing his own damp hair back.

Kuroo shrugs. “Nah. This is all natural, baby.”

“Not fuckin’ fair,” Bokuto complains as they grab their bags to leave. “Wish my hair was that easy.”

Kuroo refrains from commenting on how Bokuto’s hair is anything  _but_ easy, what with the streaks Kuroo is pretty sure Bokuto himself put there.

They unlock the door and walk out into the hallway, straight into the tall blonde from Karasuno and the freckly one Kuroo vaguely remembers as a benchwarmer, both carrying toothbrushes.

“Shit, sorry,” the blonde one says, shifting his weight to one foot.

Kuroo smirks at him as they brush by. “All yours.”


End file.
